That afternoon,
Aberforth had finished mucking out the goat shed and, with
considerable irritation, washed the unattended breakfast dishes
again. His brother and Grindelwald were outside, playing soldiers or
whatever they did with their time. The house was quiet.

A bit too quiet?

"Ariana," called
Aberforth. "Where are you?"

He strode into the
sitting room, and there was Ariana, sitting by the window with the
phoenix chick in her hands. She'd opened the cage door and taken
the bird out.

"Ariana!" exclaimed
Aberforth, but not too loudly. He didn't want to startle either
his sister or the bird.

She looked up at him.
Her face was lit with sunbeams. Aberforth was a little worried about
what Albus and Gellert might do if they caught Ariana taking their
pet phoenix out of its cage, but he couldn't be angry at her, not
when she looked as happy as that.

"Be careful with
him," said Aberforth, sitting down beside her. "Your brother'll
be upset if you let him escape."

The front door slammed,
and Gellert and Albus came charging into the sitting room. Both were
out of breath and laughing. "Hey, Abe," began Albus, but he
stopped in midsentence when he saw Ariana sitting there, holding the
baby phoenix.

Albus looked puzzled
but pleased. Gellert, on the other hand, was not pleased at all.
"Put the bird back in its cage," he said. "Right now! You
should not have taken it out. It is not yours."

"I wasn't aware it
was yours, either," said Aberforth, calmly. "It's a wild
thing, isn't it? You caught it to amuse yourselves with, but you
ought to be taking it back to its nest soon. You've had it half a
day and you already wandered off to play with something else."

"That bird is not a
plaything!" said Gellert, angrily. "And we will keep it as long
as we like!"

"Easy, Gellert,"
said Albus, reaching out to touch his friend's arm. "Ari
probably just wanted to hold it. I think it likes her."

"She is
unpredictable. You should not have let her near the cage!" said
Gellert, glaring at Ariana.

Aberforth stepped in
front of his sister, protectively. "Leave her alone," he said.
"She didn't mean any harm. She doesn't get much joy in her
life; let her hold the phoenix awhile if that's what she wants. As
a matter of fact," he added, "I was the one who took it
out of the cage -- so if you've a problem, take it up with me. All
right?"

Albus frowned. He knew
his brother well enough to judge that Aberforth was lying. Ariana
had probably opened the cage herself. But he saw no reason to
redirect Gellert's anger at his sister. Gellert and Aberforth just
didn't get along, but looking after Ariana was the important thing.

-----

"We should probably
take the phoenix back to its nest, Gellert," said Albus, after
dinner.

"Why?" said
Gellert. He nudged his bishop and pointed to a square on the
chessboard, and the bishop obediently moved to the space indicated.
"Check."

Albus studied the
wizard chessboard. "Hmm." He'd expected his friend to make
that move, but it was all part of the plan. "Advance two," he
said, tapping a pawn. The pawn shuffled its feet, looking doubtful.

"Because we've had
it for a day and its parents are probably worried," he explained.
"Besides, we haven't figured out what it eats. It might be
starving."

"Capture the pawn,"
Gellert told his bishop. It eagerly attacked Albus's pawn with its
miter, and the pawn stomped to the side of the board, defeated.
"Check. I'm sure the bird will eat what is offered, when it gets
hungry enough. And bird parents do not miss their offspring. They
aren't that intelligent."

"Maybe you're
right." Albus leaned over the board, studying it from every angle.
He moved another pawn, but it was no threat.

"In any case,"
Gellert continued, directing his rook to a new position, "we can
take better care of a phoenix than its family could. After all, when
it is in our house, it is shielded from predators and bad weather.
Were the parents clever enough to appreciate that, they would
undoubtedly be glad we relieved them of responsibility for their
chick."

Albus leaned over the
chessboard and grinned. He stretched out a finger, about to touch
his knight, and Gellert saw the trap. The blond wizard swore
furiously, but it was too late. His bishop was captured by Albus's
knight, and his strategy was spoiled.

"Sorry, Gellert.
It's not over yet, you've still got lots of pieces left."

Gellert leaned back in
his chair; it looked like he didn't want to play any more.

"Anyway," said
Albus, "about the phoenix ... I know it's been fun having it
around, but really, we should take it home. They're not easy to
tame, you know; I read a couple of books about them. Fernward says
if a captive phoenix doesn't like where it is, it just burns up in
a pile of ash and doesn't reconstitute. It doesn't renew itself
again," he clarified, remembering Gellert had difficulty with long
words in English sometimes.

"Phoenixes are noble
birds, they choose their own masters. The only way to keep one
around long-term is to sort of persuade it to be your friend, and
that's only if you're worthy. At least, that's what the book
said."

Gellert sighed. "I'm
going to bed. We can talk about it more tomorrow."

"But don't you want
to finish the game?"

"It's over," said
Gellert, rising from his seat. "You've won. This time." He
walked away.

The chess pieces looked
disappointed. "At ease. The game's over," Albus told them.
They broke ranks and climbed into their padded places in the chess
box, grumbling a little. "Maybe there'll be another battle
tomorrow." They brightened up slightly as Albus gently set the lid
on the box.

He stood up, stretched,
and pointed his wand at the fire, causing it to bank itself. He
walked into the sitting room to check on the phoenix again ... and
couldn't see it in there.

He hurried closer,
squinted through the bars. The cage door was open, and so was the
nearby window. No doubt about it, the bird had escaped. Or more
probably, someone had set it free.

"Hey, Gellert!
Aberforth! The phoenix is gone!"

Gellert ran into the
sitting room. It only took him an instant to glance from the open
cage to the window, and realize what had happened. "Oh, no! Who
could have done this? How dare they!" He was furious.

Aberforth entered, in a
dressing gown and slippers. "Shhh, lower your voices, will you?
Ariana's sleeping. And so was I, till a minute ago."

Gellert whirled on him.
"You! You let the bird escape, didn't you."

"No, I –"
Aberforth began, then stopped at the look in the other's eyes.
"Well, what of it?" he said, defensively. "It was time for it
to be let go, anyway."

"It was not your
decision to make!" Grindelwald shouted. "Do you know how long it
took us to capture that bird? You owe us compensation!"

"Compensation?"
snapped Aberforth. "That's a good one!" He was just as angry
as Gellert -- Albus could tell it was only consideration for their
sister that was keeping him from bellowing. "You eat our food, you
sleep under our roof, and you never give a word of thanks. It's
you who ought to be thanking me for cleaning up your messes."

Grindelwald pulled out
his wand, but before he could raise it, Albus intervened.

"Enough," he said,
stepping between them. "The phoenix is gone. And good riddance to
the poor thing. It's better this way. Nothing fine lasts forever,
does it? Let's just forget about it and go to sleep."

"At least we know
where the nest is," said Grindelwald. "We can find it again."

"We're not going
back out there tonight," said Albus. "And I'm not going to
look for it tomorrow, either. What's done is done."

Grindelwald looked from
Albus to Aberforth, and saw he wasn't going to win this argument.
He stormed from the room, muttering something unpleasant under his
breath.

The brothers looked at
one another. Neither said anything for a few moments.

Finally Albus said:
"I'm getting some hot chocolate. Would you like to make some for
you? I'll clean up after myself this time, I promise. Sorry I
didn't do it before."

"Doesn't matter,"
grumbled Aberforth. "I'm going to go see to our sister. The
noise has probably upset her. Actually, why don't you make some
hot chocolate for her, too?"

"All right."

-----

Abe lied again,
thought Albus, as he spooned chocolate powder into a saucepan. He
didn't really open the cage. It was Ariana.

But Grindelwald didn't
know or care. It was probably just as well. Albus had no intention
of stating the truth, although he wished his friend wasn't so
upset. He hated to see Gellert unhappy. He himself was a little
sorry that their prize was now gone ...

... but as he stood
stirring the milk on the stove, he thought he could hear a faint bird
song in the distance.

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